


another nightmare of you again

by thewonderzebra



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 10:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15265476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewonderzebra/pseuds/thewonderzebra
Summary: Restless energy and a Bruins road trip lead to angst and a bad dream for Brad. Thankfully, Patrice is there to make it better.





	another nightmare of you again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blindbatalex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindbatalex/gifts).



> For the dear Alex (blindbatalex), who loves h/c.

With the amount of restless energy radiating off Brad as the team makes their way back to the hotel, Patrice is surprised to emerge from the shower and find the left winger passed out on their bed. He can’t say he is disappointed, though, since he constantly worries about Brad getting enough sleep when they’re on the road. The assistant captain smiles, and makes his way over to the bed, gently pulling the covers out from under the weight of Brad’s body and tucking in his sweatpants-clad form. After a gentle kiss on the forehead, Patrice makes his way to his side of the bed and slides in beside him, wrapping an arm around him and turning off the bedside light as he tries to fall asleep, even though he feels like the other shoe is about to drop.

As it turns out, Patrice’s senses are correct. Shortly after he nods off, he is jolted back into consciousness by the feeling of Brad twisting in his arms, the unmistakeable sound of crying reaching the assistant captain’s ears. Patrice quickly shakes off the remnants of sleep, and sits up, trying to better assess the situation. His heart sinks as his eyes adjust and he makes out Brad’s hands, white-knuckle-gripping the sheets while his head thrashes about on his pillow and pained whimpers claw their way out of the left winger’s throat. It is clear that Brad’s restlessness has carried over into his subconscious, provoking nightmares and evident distress. 

The tipping point for Patrice comes when Brad cries out his name, his voice choked and terrified. Not wanting to see his soulmate suffer any longer, Patrice sets about waking him up. He runs a gentle hand down Brad’s arm, but gains no response; a similar lack of response is garnered from Patrice touching his cheek. As Brad’s cries intensify, Patrice realizes that more drastic measures are necessary. So, he plants his hands on his linemate’s shoulders and calls his name while giving his twisting body one firm shake. This seems to have the desired effect, and so with a scream that dies as quickly as it bubbles to the surface, Brad’s eyes snap open.

Tension is heavy in the air as Brad adjusts to being awake, his head turning and eyes darting around the hotel rooms as though he’s forgotten where he is. Patrice removes his hands from Brad’s shoulders and lies down beside him quietly, not wanting to say anything or touch him in a way that could startle him. His heart breaks for the way he can feel Brad shake beside him, hear his breath stutter. He knows, though, that intruding on his space prematurely won’t help anything.

Finally, Brad turns his head in the dark room, and Patrice can feel his eyes on him. “Patrice,” he calls, his voice weak and wavering. The left winger tries and fails to stifle a sniffle, likely a remnant of whatever nightmare had captured him in its throes, and Patrice wants nothing more than to hold him close and dry his tears. 

After a moment’s more of Brad sniffling and his breath stuttering, Patrice moves closer and squeezes his bicep gently. “What happened, cher?” he murmurs. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering with words, Brad surprises Patrice by launching himself into his arms and wrapping around him like a koala. Patrice is happy to accommodate him, tangling his legs with Brad’s and wrapping his arms around his love’s smaller frame. Brad subsequently buries his face in the crook of Patrice’s neck and clings to his shirt like he is drowning and Patrice is somehow keeping him afloat—which, he ventures to guess, isn’t at all inaccurate. He tries to control the way his body is shaking, but he finds he can’t. All he can do is breathe in Patrice’s comforting, familiar scent and bite his lip to keep from sobbing.

Feeling Brad’s body wrought with tension, Patrice sets out to provide relief. He bows his neck and nuzzles Brad’s hair, kissing his temple and then the shell of his ear. His hands work on Brad’s back, tracing patterns along his spine and rubbing his tight muscles loose. As he does so, Patrice murmurs loving nonsense in French, knowing silence is oppressive when Brad is shaken. 

When Brad has relaxed some in Patrice’s arms, Patrice presses a tender kiss to the side of his head. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. He rubs the base of Brad’s neck soothingly when he feels the winger begin to tense up. “Hey, you don’t have to,” Patrice rushes to say. “I just thought it might help.”

Brad ultimately nods against Patrice’s neck. “Bad dreams,” he mumbles, taking a shaky but very controlled breath to center himself. He knows Patrice won’t push, but that his love is also right in his speculation. Talking about his nightmares will help him, and Patrice will make sure he feels safe. 

“You got taken down,” Brad reveals, and feels his heart rate accelerate. “And you didn’t get back up. I kept calling you and calling you and touching you but you were unconscious; by the time anyone came for help, your heart stopped.” At this, the left winger’s voice cracks violently and he has to pause a moment before continuing. “You died, Bergy, and I felt so goddamn lost. You broke my heart.”

Patrice knows Brad is being anything but accusatory, but the words sting nonetheless. He doesn’t want to be the one causing his love pain, even if that pain came in dream form. “Oh Marchy,” he breathes, and shifts his position and cradles Brad’s head against his chest, ensuring his ear is over his heart. “I’m okay, I’m here. My heart’s still beating, yeah? I promise I’m not going anywhere.” 

Brad presses his ear against Patrice’s chest and relishes the sound and feel of his heart, beating strong and steady beneath his ribs. He wants to be lulled into a sense of security, but the dream is still fresh in his mind and he can’t quite settle. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Patrice,” he mumbles. “You can’t guarantee something won’t happen to you, that you won’t get hit like that.”

“Maybe I can’t guarantee that,” Patrice acknowledges. “But I can promise you that I’m here right now, I’m fine, and I’m not going to break your heart like that tonight…certainly not on purpose, and hopefully not for a very long time.” He follows his words with another kiss to Brad’s head. “I’m sorry you dreamed that, ange. I wish I could protect you from nightmares.”

Brad clings to Patrice a little tighter, then, and turns to press his lips gently against Patrice’s chest. “You already do that more than you know,” he tells him, his eyes burning with building tears as he tries desperately to fight them off. “God, I love you so much.”

Patrice’s arms tighten around Brad’s body, hands still moving along his back in a rhythmic fashion. “Je t’aime aussi,” he murmurs. “Do you think you want to try sleeping again?”

“Eventually,” Brad acquiesces, though his voice is beginning to slow and slur. “Right now I just want you to lay here with me like this.” At this, Patrice smiles although he knows his face isn’t visible. He is happy to do whatever he can to relax his love, and this is easy. 

“Alright mon amour,” he agrees, and the two fall into a peaceful silence. Brad falls asleep listening to Patrice’s heartbeat, and only then does Patrice allow himself to drift off to the sound of Brad’s steady breathing. Neither of them wake again until the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for indulging me. Leave comments, if you so choose...positive feedback keeps me functioning. Come say hi on Tumblr, too! (@thewonderzebra)


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